More Gloom, Less Doom.

As one who suffers from Seasonal Affect Disorder, I have long dreaded this time of year.  It’s interminably gray, and for a person who works outdoors (and enjoys being outdoors in my spare time,) it entails a fair amount of extra work to achieve a state of acceptable discomfort.

Having photography as a hobby has gone a long way toward changing that.  These days I find myself hoping that it rains at some point during the day, because despite the inevitable chill to my spine and stiffening of my knuckles, I can expect some atmospherics and mystery on my ride home.

Today, coming home over the hills in Plainfield and Savoy, I stopped at a roadside bog to try my hand at capturing what I saw and felt.

At first, it was stark and still and beautiful:

But as I immersed myself in it, surrendered to it, it became something more, revealing a sub-torporous vitality which belied its initial impression of grayness:

Yeah, I played with that a little; but only enough to reflect what happened in my mind as my eyes adjusted to the subtilty of this scene.

I know, it’s a piss-poor substitute for vitamin D, but it’s all I got.